Charles Leon Hardison

Charles L Hardison

March 12, 1936 - July 2, 2012

Charles Hardison, my Dad: has passed on to his eternal reward. It is not possible to tell his full story here: but I will try to give you a glimpse of the work that helped define him, and a lesson that he taught me.

Dad was a child of the Great Depression: and as a child lived and worked on his Grandparent's farm. He worked any job he could find as a child and even got a job as a Brakeman on the Virginian Railroad at age 13. He enlisted in the US Army at age 17: serving briefly as an MP, then going to Japan to work as a fireman, then a year in Korea as a Field Engineer. After his return to civilian life, he worked on an automobile assembly line in L.A. He and my mother moved to Virginia, and he worked as an Iron Worker; making Wrought Iron that is still in use today. He worked in fabrication, machining and sheet metal. In his late 30's he learned Trigonometry, so that he could earn more money working in sheet metal layout and design. He taught me to use a slide rule, and that you can learn at any stage of life. He was an artist, who could find beauty and whimsy on everyday objects. He fabricated the first sets of engine mounts for the Space Shuttles; and when medically retired; his last works was as an experimental/prototype machinist for Honeywell.

One of the subtlest lessons that he taught me was covered many levels. Dad enlisted: but he always told me that he hated the Army. He spoke well of his fellow soldiers, he treated military personnel as equals; but never missed a chance to needle, almost teasingly, almost every officer (except Omar Bradley). He told me not to trust politicians or Generals when it was a soldier's life on the line, that as a soldier you would have to be careful of your own life. Then Dad told me about a bridge in Korea. It crossed a river that flowed from the north to the south: he told me of the bodies that would float down the communist side, and of seeing a hundred Communist tanks on the ridge to the north looking down on him position. His unit had a simple mission: Hold the enemy, and blow up the bridge to prevent its capture. Dad told me that he would not die at that "damn bridge", so he had a plan. He had a spare air mattress that he kept rolled up and ready. If his unit could not hold, he would go to the river, use the mattress and cross to the south. But wouldn't die or be captured on the north side of the river. I thought I understood what he meant, and tried to keep that lesson in mind.

Years Later, I was looking at the same bridge. I realized a part of the lesson, a measure of the man, that I had missed before.

He had only need of the air mattress if the bridge was gone. Do your duty first, only then a thought of escape. Dad was a good soldier, and a great man.

My Mom taught me to read; and I have thanked her for that. I can read the US Constitution, and pray when and how I want. For that I thank my Dad.

Please: donation in-Lieu of flowers to: Autism Society of America at: www.autism-society.org